


At the Bottom of this Drink, Perhaps I Will Find Peace

by OfMirthAndTears



Series: By the Moon's Light [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mild Smut, One-Shot, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfMirthAndTears/pseuds/OfMirthAndTears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sirius is overwhelming biter and Remus is trying to find a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Bottom of this Drink, Perhaps I Will Find Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Woke up with this drabble in my head. Might expand into a series of one-shots examining the relationship between Sirius and Remus, both pre and post First Wizarding War.

It was five before one in the morning when Sirius first heard it. As he sat in the parlour of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, staring into the depths of his drink, a sudden soft moan broke through the silence. In as a house as old as this one, airy and thin-walled, sound carried. Sirius could remember the shouts of his parents and sound of glass smashing against flesh, seventen years of misery echoing through the corridors like a unwanted plague.

Another moan. Louder this time. 

Sirius heaved a groan and took one last sip, before setting the now empty glass down. He stood and left the parlor, casting one last glower at the portraits of his forefathers on the walls as he left. 

Climbing the staircase, the sounds escaladed and were joined by the unmistakable creaking of a bed against a wall. _Don’t you remember how Lily and James would get up to it during that one summer after graduation?_ No, Sirius mustn’t think of that. Not at this hour and certainly not with this much vodka in him. They weren’t important; they were dead. What was important was to find out who was having a shag in this fortress at one-o’clock on a Tuesday morning.

 _Molly and Arthur are at the Burrow for the night. All of the kids are at school._ Sirius mused to himself as he rounded the landing of the second floor and began to slowly ascend to the third floor. _Only people here are me and ol’ Moony, and neither of us are in any shape to entertain a bed-partner._

 _A werewolf and an convicted murderer._ Sirius almost laughed out-loud. _What a romantic fucking ideal._

The sounds seemed to be coming from the second bedroom on the third level. The moans were unmistakenable that of a woman, and, now, Sirius could hear the ocassional low grunts of a man. 

Mind-addled with booze, Sirius was struggling. _This room… This is the one Remus stays in, right?_

He frowned. _What the fuck?_

Creeping slowly towards the room, Sirius pressed one ear to the wooden surface and listened. Yes, a woman moaning… Moaning Remus _’_ name.  _Merlin’s Shit, who would Remus be entertaining at this hour?_

The keyhole was open, invitingly shining with a pale gold light. _Come on, aren’t you curious about the Professor?_

Sirius swore under his breath, and crouched, swaying slightly with drink in his veins. He peered through the small door-opening, needing to squint with one-eye just to make anything out in the haze of the room. 

The inner bedroom was dimly lit, a single gas light the only source of light other than the nearly full December moon out hanging in the window. On any other night, Sirius may have taken pause and cursed the moon for bringing such a terror upon the world, but not tonight. Tonight his eyes were drawn directly to the small bed on the left wall and the partners on top of it. 

For a second, Sirius’ mind was blank. _How… What?_

For Nymphadora Tonks was flat-backed against the bedcovers, tee hiked up over her breasts and pink hair done up in a messy bun. Her hands were clenched in over-familiar grey-brown hair, moving in time with the pace that his head shifted between her legs. Even as Sirius watched, Remus changed places to place delicate kisses upon her inner thighs, then her stomach. His face was shiny with sweat and with her juices, and white teeth grazed over nipples in a way that made her shake. His hair was a mess, cast over his eyes in such a way that made him look ten years younger. Dark, dilated eyes shone even in the daze of the bedroom, and his attention was only for Nymphadora. 

Sirius leaned backwards, struggling to keep his breaths steady. Then he stood and walked back down the staircase to get another drink. 

 _Well, duh._ Sirius thought to himself as he took a generous swig from a bottle of firewhiskey. _S’not like they haven’t been making love-eyes at each other for the last six months. Still…_

Sirius had to close his eyes for a second. But the images still flashed over dark eyelids. _Dates in Hogsmeade, messy kisses in closets between classes, the way amber eyes looked as he curled into his side with a battered copy of Sherlock Holmes._

Or even more recently… He had been silly, thinking that Remus would have wanted to pick up where they left off all those years ago. Hell, they had been school-boys! Seventeen years old and desperately trying to figure out where they were supposed to go in that fucking messed-up world. 

The memory was vivid in Sirius’ mind, cast in summer light that matched the color of his firewhiskey almost exactly. 

Remus had been making a cup of tea. Darjeeling, his favorite. Sirius had been sure to give Molly money to pick some up while she was out, just because he knew how Remus was often unable to afford it. Requesting tea seemed to be one of the only good ways for Sirius to spend his time, since Dumbledore had sentenced him to imprisonment once more. 

His sweater was patched at the elbows, neat little stitches marking the boundaries of the holes in the fabric, and his trousers were worn. Still, Sirius could remember thinking that Remus looked beautiful in the July sunlight; his hair looked highlighted with pure gold and you could barely see the scars that marred his face. 

Sirius had been bold, too bold. But, he couldn’t help it, with how Remus looked as he quietly brewed his tea and swayed to the jazz music crooning out of the wireless on the counter. So he took steps forward and wrapped arms around Remus’ torso, placed dry lips to the exposed skin above Remus’ collar and “hmm-ed” like he used to before the First War. 

And in an instant, he had known that he had made a terrible mistake. Remus’ body had gone very stiff very quickly, and for an instant, the kitchen was silent except for the faint piano wafting through the room. Then, Remus had placed his hands on Sirius’ and gently unwrapepd the pair. 

Sirius’ heart still ached. And it ached even more thinking about how Remus’ face looked in that moment. Hair not gold but resoundly more grey, a face marked with pale scars over his cheekbones, and eyes that looked sad and much too old for his thirty-six years. And most damning of all, that small half smile tugging around his lips, far too understanding and knowing for Sirius’ liking. 

Remus had bowed his head and said in a low voice. “That was nearly twenty-years ago, Sirius.” 

Sirius had said nothing. Remus had sighed. 

“I’m sorry, Padfoot.”   
  
Sirius had nodded and they had stoof there for a while, hands gently covering each other and heads bowed, remembering but not saying anything. 

Then the front door of Number 12 had opened with a bang, followed by the shrieks of Walburga’s portrait.   
  
Tonks’ voice rang out. “Oh, bollocks! Can I get some help here, Remus, love?” 

Remus’ hands abruptly left Sirius’ and froze in the air for a second. Eyes connected, grey meeting resoundly with amber. Then Sirius had cocked his head towards the kitchen door and Remus left. 

Sirius sighed and took another long drink from his bottle. It was nearly empty - wasn’t it full just a moment ago? Ah well. He’d have to go find another one in a minute, because he surely wasn’t getting any sleep tonight. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
